


just need a little help

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: (spoilers for S6 so far), Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s06 e18 Fundamentals, F/M, Oliver Queen Has PTSD, Oliver and Felicity go to therapy together, Panic Attacks, Post-6x18, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, References to anxiety, Season/Series 06, Therapy, couples therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-22 20:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14316366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: Post-6x18.Oliver and Felicity attend a therapy session together, getting help to properly discuss the events of the episode, the pressures placed on them recently by team members leaving, and Oliver's issues with trust and abandonment.





	just need a little help

**Author's Note:**

> After 6x18, I just... needed to write this. Not just as therapy for Oliver and Felicity, but as therapy for myself, and for the fandom.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Thank you to @gothfelicitys on Twitter for allowing me to utilise their wedding ring idea!)

* * *

“I’m really happy we’re doing this.”

Oliver raised his head a little to face his wife with a weak smile. “I’m glad you’re happy.” He couldn’t really say much more. He turned back to aiming his gaze at the floor, running a slightly trembling hand through his hair.

Therapy.

That’s what Felicity was happy about.

Lyla must have been filled in about what had happened with the Vertigo, because a couple of days after the drug had finally completely left Oliver’s system, Felicity had told him that Lyla was offering an appointment with an ARGUS psychiatrist for him.

Suffice to say, he wasn’t particularly overcome with joy at that information.

But he agreed to it. If only because Felicity seemed to approve of the idea, and he was scared that if he didn't go, Felicity might get angry at him and leave like all the others did.

Oliver was anxious. He knew he had mental health issues. He also knew that after all the horrors he had suffered through, all the loss and pain he had experienced, he was likely to be a psychiatrist’s wet dream of a patient. Which was probably why Oliver was so nervous. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable. He hated being exposed and after his fight with Diggle, he especially hated the idea of being analyzed and judged for his decisions and actions. Therefore, the very idea of therapy itself kind of freaked him out.

The archer barely noticed Felicity slowly pulling his hand away from his head and lacing their fingers together. He squeezed back when she tightened her fingers a bit, trying to elicit a response from him; while he appreciated her attempt to comfort him, he wasn’t going to relax until this therapy session was over, they were far away from ARGUS and they were back at their apartment together.

“I can tell you’re worried,” she whispered. “There’s no need to be. It’s going to be fine. I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.”

His wife sighed, reaching up to stroke her thumb over his cheek gently. “Then why do you look as if you’re on the verge of a panic attack?”

“Because I am,” he admitted.

“It’s okay to be apprehensive,” she told him. She danced her fingertips over his palm in a tender motion, leaning into his side to ground him. “Therapy’s scary for everybody at first. Well, so I’ve read. And it’s scary to think you have to tell somebody so much about yourself and your feelings. But Lyla told me this particular psychiatrist is trained as a doctor, a psychologist and a therapist, so we know whatever she’s going to tell us is legit, and since she already knows you’re the Green Arrow, we don’t have to worry about secret keeping.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about.”

Felicity frowned. “Then what are you concerned about?”

He didn’t want to tell her he was still pretty much terrified that Felicity was going to leave him too. Oliver would never have thought that Diggle would abandon him, but he did. He was petrified that now his team and his brother in all but blood were gone, his wife was next. No matter how many times Felicity reassured him that she wasn’t going anywhere, Oliver couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t true. Something was wrong with him that made everyone want to leave. Soon, Felicity would realize that and take off too. But that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t survive it. He’d been faced with the concept of his wife wanting to separate from him last week in a hallucination, and that heartbroken feeling, the agony and terror that had struck him as he was forced to watch her walk away from him, haunted him even now.

He didn’t have to respond to Felicity’s question, as the door around the corner opened and a brunette women wearing glasses and a white coat stepped out. “Mr. Oliver Queen and Mrs. Felicity Smoak?”

Oliver froze. He felt and heard his wife stand up beside him, but he couldn’t move. This was actually happening. He was actually going to therapy because of how fucked up in the head he was. It had been a long time coming.

He felt sick to the stomach.

“Oliver,” Felicity prompted him softly, tapping on his forearm. “Come on, honey.” He shook his head. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Kneeling in front of him, Felicity took both of his hands. “Hey. Look at me. It’s okay.” She placed the palm of his right hand against her heart so he could feel it thudding. “I’m here. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. This is totally up to you. We can leave right now if you want.”

But that would just mean they’d have to come back. He’d have to suffer through this whole episode of agitation all over again. He shook his head again.

“You want to try?”

Squashing the writhing ball of anxiety settled in his chest, he nodded and finally managed to get to his feet. Felicity didn’t let go of one of his hands, leading him carefully into the office. Oliver kept his eyes averted downwards so he wouldn’t have to meet the doctor’s calculating gaze as they entered and took their seats. The office was painted a pastel blue and had sparse furniture, only the chairs they were sitting in, the doctor's chair and desk, and a small filing cabinet in the corner. There weren't any windows, but the fixture hanging above them was a natural daylight one, imitating sunbeams.

The door closed with an unexpectedly loud bang, which triggered Oliver to jump in his seat, adrenalin surging through him. He gripped the arms of his chair, head whipping around as he cautiously searched for danger. The office was large, but it was still an enclosed space. With the door shut, the archer felt trapped. He _hated_ feeling confined. Sensing his distress, Felicity shuffled her chair so it was angled more towards him and she could continue touching him, making sure he knew he had her support.

The doctor came over to shake Felicity’s hand, although she didn’t try to shake Oliver’s, which he reckoned was because she could see how uneasy he was. “You must be Mrs. Smoak. I have to say, tales of your technological feats as Overwatch have spread through ARGUS... and have massively impressed me.”

“Oh!” Felicity grinned brightly. “Thank you! Please, call me Felicity. It’s lovely to meet you too, Dr…?”

“Dr. Millard,” she responded. She turned to Oliver. “Mr. Queen… it’s an honor to meet you. Stories of the Green Arrow's heroism are constantly being told to inspire trainee agents, and it's my impression that Director Michaels massively admires and respects you. I can tell from your expression this isn’t exactly how you’d like to be spending your morning, so let me grab my paperwork and we can start, okay?”

Oliver nodded, relieved. He wouldn’t be able to stand trying to fill the silence with small talk. “Thank you. And you can call me Oliver.”

The doctor sat down at her desk, pulling a file out from a drawer. As soon as the archer caught sight of it, he growled under his breath, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to contain his rage. It was his old ARGUS file, the one Waller had composed. His rage quickly transformed into horror as he realized that meant that the doctor had probably already read it and knew what torture he’d inflicted during Hong Kong… and that Felicity might be about to get the R rated story of his third year away, rather than the PG-13 version he preferred to tell.

Millard paused, one of her fingers underneath the file’s overleaf. “You really don’t like this file.”

“That’s Waller’s file,” he said. “From when she forced me to work for her.”

“Director Michaels took over management of your file as soon as she assumed her position,” the doctor informed him. “It’s to my understanding that she very heavily edited it to make it more accurate, and has kept it up to date since.”

Oliver deflated, a little relieved. Lyla wouldn’t let there be any biased content included in those mission reports. She might have even rewritten them to make them cleaner.

The doctor narrowed her eyes a little at his reaction. “I’m going to put this aside for now,” she decided, sliding it back into the drawer. “And I’m going to ask you a few questions first, if that’s alright. You don’t have to answer them if you don’t wish to, but it will help me decide how exactly we should be handling these sessions. I’d like both of you to answer me to the best of your ability.”

“We can do that,” Felicity nodded, shooting a smile at Oliver.

He nodded too, agreeing. Millard wasn’t going to force him to open up about anything. Knowing that he had an aspect of control in this environment helped him relax, tense shoulders loosening as he shifted in his seat.

“Alright. Firstly, have either of you ever had any kind of therapy before?”

“I did when I was a kid,” Felicity told her. “And after my ex-boyfriend hanged himself.” She sounded so sure of herself, so unaffected by what she was confessing.

Oliver wished he had his wife’s confidence. He picked at his fingernails nervously. “I haven’t.”

Millard took some notes down in a notebook in front of her. “Okay, that’s fine. Have either of you been diagnosed with any mental health related disorders in the past?”

“Generalised anxiety when I was twelve,” Felicity replied. “I had an evaluation after the attack by Darhk’s Ghosts that left me paralyzed and they said they were concerned about depression, but I never got diagnosed.”

Oliver didn’t say anything.

He knew that the one doctor that Waller made him see in Hong Kong had most likely diagnosed him with something, and that Diggle and Felicity suspected he had PTSD. But those had never really been official diagnoses.

After around thirty seconds of silence, despite his wife nudging him to urge him to respond, the doctor glanced up from her notes. “It’s alright, Oliver, you don’t have to answer.”

“Um…” he swallowed. “I don’t know if any were mentioned in my file.”

“You don’t know if the ARGUS doctors you saw diagnosed you with anything?”

“No.”

“Have you ever seen your ARGUS file?”

“Not… really.”

Millard looked appalled. She pulled a pad of sticky notes toward her, scribbling something down. “I’m making a photocopy of your file for you to take home and read,” she announced. “It’s not right that they won’t let you see what they wrote about you. One last question before we properly get started - who do you want these sessions to be focused on? I can focus on both of you, but usually, when a couple comes to me, they want more focus placed on one of them than the other.”

“Oliver,” Felicity responded, too quickly for it to be considered casual. “We need to focus on Oliver.”

Her warm eyes flitting over to him, the doctor asked, “Are you alright with that?”

“Felicity’s not the one messed up in the head,” he answered hollowly. “I am.”

Millard pursed her lips, obviously unhappy at the way he was talking about himself, but she didn’t press him at all, just simply said, “We don’t discuss mental health like that here, Oliver.”

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Okay.” The doctor swiveled her chair to face them head-on. “Now, Director Michaels has advised me to be blunt with both of you because apparently, you can both be incredibly stubborn. So I’m just going to flat out ask - what made you decide to come here today? Felicity?”

She gnawed on her lip, brow crinkling. “I… I’m worried about Oliver after what happened last week. We haven’t really talked about it and I know we probably won’t in the depth we need to without outside help.”

“Good, alright. Oliver?”

There was a lump in his throat. That feeling of wanting to throw up washed over him again, but the archer fought past it to admit quietly, “Something is wrong with me and I don’t want Felicity and I to split up because I haven’t tried to fix it.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Felicity protested immediately. “And I would never -”

“Felicity,” Millard interrupted her gently. “Let Oliver speak.”

It was difficult, but he managed to continue, “Everything seems to be falling apart despite my best efforts to keep it all together and… I cracked under the pressure last week. I scared William and Felicity. They think it was because of the drugs but I… I don’t think it was. I think it was… just me. I’m broken. I’m damaged and I hurt everybody around me. Last week, when I hurt William and Felicity... I just don’t want anything like that to happen again and I’m hoping doing this might stop that.”

The doctor was writing so fast in her notebook her hand was practically a blur. “William is your son, Oliver?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s your stepson, Felicity?”

“Yes. But I think of him as my own son. I would never try and replace William’s mother but I’d like to think I’m a motherly figure for him.”

Millard nodded. “Okay, I think we should address the events of last week. Both of you have spoken up about it so I definitely think this is something we need to talk about, openly and honestly. Oliver, you got dosed with Vertigo against your knowledge and consent, is that correct?”

“Yes. Councilman Collins shook my hand and I absorbed it through my skin.”

“From what I’ve been told by Labs, I understand that this version of Vertigo causes hallucinations and erratic behavior.”

He already knew what she was trying to get at. He bowed his head, fidgeting restlessly. “That doesn’t excuse how I acted towards Felicity and William.”

“Oliver.” The stern tone of Millard’s voice led him to look up at her, meeting her eyes. “I know you’ve been experiencing feelings of guilt and shame about what happened for the last week, but you need to accept that it was the Vertigo affecting you that caused you to lash out. Your thought processes and impulse control were altered by the substance, as well as your emotional stability. It was _not_ your fault.”

He shook his head. Oliver couldn’t accept that. “There is _no excuse_. I scared William.”

“Does William know you were under the influence of drugs?”

“Yes, he does,” Felicity answered for him. “And he doesn’t blame Oliver at all. He wasn’t scared _of_ him. He was scared _for_ him.”

“You can’t know that,” Oliver threw at her.

“Actually, I can. William and I do talk about personal things, you know.”

“Both of you, calm down,” Millard ordered, glancing between them. “I know what happened has upset you both, and we will discuss that, but we don’t want any upsets here. Oliver, did the Vertigo cause you to hallucinate?”

He looked away. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Why?” The doctor must have caught sight of the rapid flicker of his eyes towards his wife, because she followed her question up with, “You don’t want Felicity to know what you hallucinated.”

“I know you hallucinated me,” Felicity said. “I’ve figured out that much.”

“Not just you,” Oliver murmured, the anxiety taking over again. He covered his face his hands, struggling to keep his breathing under control. “I don’t know if I can talk about this.”

“Whatever else you hallucinated clearly had a major effect on you.”

“More like _whoever_ ,” he breathed.

Millard stilled. “You hallucinated another person?”

“Yes.”

“More than one other person?”

Memories of the hallucinations of Rene, Dinah, Curtis and Laurel almost triggered him to flinch. “... yes. Although mostly just this… particular person.”

“Does Felicity know who this person is, is that why you don’t want her to know?”

“Yes,” he gritted out, dropping his hands to clench them into fists on top of his thighs.

He could sense his wife observing him closely, watching his body language. After a moment, she gasped audibly, hands flying up to cover her mouth as she paled. “Oliver… was it Chase?”

He dropped his head into his hands and a whimper escaped his throat before he could halt it.

“Oliver -”

“Yes, it was. It was Adrian. Happy now?”

“Easy,” Millard warned.

“I can’t imagine how traumatic that was for you.” Felicity had tears in her eyes. “Oh, Oliver. I’m so sorry.”

“Did the hallucinations speak to you?” the doctor asked shortly.

“Yes.”

If possible, his wife appeared even more upset by that revelation. “The things he must have said to you…”

“You have to remember that whatever Adrian Chase told Oliver, it was his subconsciousness,” Millard said. “Would you be able to share some of those things, Oliver?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away the images of that psychopath mocking and laughing at him.

_I killed the mother of your son. I'm not playing games this time. This time, I'm coming for you and Felicity and William, anyone and everyone who's ever been close to you. And there's only one way that you can stop me._

_I knew you'd kill me or try to. I always was the one person who saw you for the murderer you are._

_You think you've been dosed with something. You know, there is another explanation, a more likely one in my considered opinion. You're finally going crazy. It's completely understandable, Ollie. You've lost everything._

_Maybe you are a better Oliver Queen, a happier Oliver Queen. But it has sure made you a worse hero. You have a wife, a son, you're the mayor, all of which, yes, may be going away, but still, it's a fair assumption. You're stretched too thin, buddy. Maybe you've gotten so good at being Oliver Queen that the Green Arrow's mission is suffering. You may be happier, but the people that you love, they're not._

And then… himself.

_You have failed this city. And you know why. You were never meant to have partners. There was never supposed to be a John Diggle. A Felicity Smoak, a Team Arrow. There was never supposed to be a Green Arrow. There was only the mission!_

“No,” he replied instantly.

“That’s okay.” Millard shot Felicity a pointed look to get her to back down when his wife opened her mouth to ask more questions. “That’s completely fine. If you want to talk about what the hallucinations said to you in the future, we can do that, and if you don’t want to talk about them at all, that’s okay too. I just need to ask quickly, did you only hallucinate other people around you, or did you hallucinate being in other settings and surrounding as well?”

“All of it,” he said. He turned away, uncomfortable. “I… don’t want to talk about this anymore. Please don’t make me.”

“Let’s discuss what happened at the SCPD precinct instead. From what I’ve seen on the news and heard from Director Michaels, you went in there alone in an attempt to take down Diaz’s operation.”

“And made some strange style choices along the way,” Felicity whispered to herself sarcastically. Oliver shot her a glare.

“Felicity?” Millard prompted, clicking her pen down on the desk to prepare to write.

She blushed when she realized she’d been overheard. “Um… Oliver decided to don his old Arrow suit… the leather one with the original hood. He hasn’t worn it in three years. Quentin managed to sneak it out of SCPD evidence lock-up and get it back for us recently.”

“Was there a reason you decided to do that, that you’d like to share with us, Oliver?”

“Not… today.”

“Nothing at all?” Millard pressed gently. “I’m sure Felicity would like to know. She must have been very confused to see you like that.”

Seeing his wife nodding beside him, the archer sighed and admitted, “I hallucinated myself from my first year back on the island. I worked alone back then… the fact that I was going up against Diaz alone… wearing the old hood seemed symbolic.”

“Thank you for telling us that, Oliver. Felicity, you said you’re aware that Oliver might have hallucinated you. Why do you think that?”

“When I confronted him in the precinct, he wasn’t sure whether or not I was real, and he told me that I left, when I did no such thing.”

The doctor glanced over at him. "Oliver?"

Oliver didn’t want to get into detail about that particular hallucination. Even though it hadn’t been real, his emotional wounds from that conversation with Felicity still ached. “I hallucinated you in the bunker, missing your wedding ring and saying that you wanted us to separate,” he told her shortly.

Felicity looked horrified. “Oliver… I would never leave you. _Never_. How many times do I have to tell you that for you to believe me?”

Scrubbing angrily at the tears that welled in his eyes, he choked out, “I don’t know if I ever truly will.”

His heart throbbed painfully as he heard his wife sob.

“Why do you think Felicity would leave you, Oliver?” Millard asked calmly.

Felicity aimed a furious look at her. “Why would you ask him that?”

“Because if he’s struggling to believe that you won’t leave him, he obviously believes that you eventually will,” the doctor said. “And that’s not your fault, Felicity. Oliver, would it be safe to say that you’ve experienced losing people you love in the past? Often by them leaving you?”

“If by past you mean in the last six months, yes,” he said. “Four members of our team left. One of them was a man I’ve known for six years and I came to view as a brother.”

The doctor nodded. “John Diggle.”

“Yes.”

“Who were the others?” she asked, writing more notes.

“Rene Ramirez, Dinah Drake and Curtis Holt.”

“It’s to my understanding that Mr. Ramirez provided evidence and might be testifying against you in your trial coming up soon. Am I right in saying you felt betrayed by his decision to do that?”

Oliver shrugged. “He did it for his daughter.”

“Whether he’s doing it for his daughter or not, he still placed your life with your wife and son in jeopardy,” Millard said. “You must have some feelings about that.”

“I’m angry at him,” the archer muttered. “But I don’t think I have the right to be, not after what happened.”

Millard raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“Rene’s been in the hospital recently,” Felicity explained for him. “He, Dinah and Curtis attacked our team because we were trying to extract Black Siren from the city, so she could recover extorted City Hall funds - it's a long story - but Rene didn’t stand down when Oliver told him to. He tried to take out Oliver, but ended up getting badly hurt in the process. Oliver feels guilty about it because he caused Rene’s injuries, despite the fact he knows that he was defending himself, and defending John and me at the time.”

Tilting her head, the doctor questioned, “Why was he defending you and Mr. Diggle?”

“Curtis hacked John’s biostimulant chip in order to track us, which caused him an immense amount of pain, so he was struggling to fight against Dinah. Rene fired shots at Black Siren, Quentin and Thea that nearly hit me several times when I tried to stop him. Both of us could have been killed if Oliver hadn’t taken down Rene. He brought his injuries upon himself. John and I don’t judge him or blame him for what happened..”

“ _You_ don’t, but John does,” Oliver told her. “John doesn’t think we handled what happened with Rene, Dinah or Curtis correctly. He thinks that I was in the wrong deciding to put them under surveillance and wrong not to help them rescue Vince.”

Felicity looked bemused. “John helped you make that decision. I did too. We all agreed it was something he had to do. And with Vince, you and John were saving the city rather than just one man.”

“Yeah, well, apparently John’s changed his mind now and thinks that was wrong of us.”

Millard tapped her pen on the counter to regain their attention. “So all four of these members of your team quit? And I assume that they’ve all told you that you’re the reason why they decided to leave.”

“They don’t want anything to do with me anymore,” Oliver added, releasing a small, bitter laugh.

“From what I’m hearing, I think they’re offloading their problems onto you, as you’re an easy target for them,” Millard said. “They saw you as their leader and so decided that if anything went wrong, you should take the brunt of the blame. People like that aren’t good teammates to have, Oliver.”

“They’re not my teammates anymore and they’re still blaming me for everything.”

“Then they owe you apologies,” the doctor said.

“They’ll never apologize,” he shook his head. “And even if they did apologize, I don’t think I would ever want them back on my team again.”

“It would be safe to say that you have some trust issues? Some abandonment issues?”

“That would be an understatement,” Oliver muttered. “I feel betrayed by all of them.”

“Because of what happened with those four, are you afraid that Felicity could break your trust in her and betray you as well? Is that why you think Felicity might leave you?”

“But he _knows_ he can trust me,” Felicity insisted. “I would never betray him, and I _promise him_ I would never leave him.” All of a sudden, her expression changed into one of immense sorrow. “Oliver… is that why you fired me as Overwatch? Because you don’t trust me? Because you wanted to put distance between us now in case I decided to leave like everybody else did?”

Oliver closed his eyes and didn’t respond.

That wasn’t exactly it.

But he had to admit, it was one of his reasons.

“I do trust you,” Oliver told her firmly. Seeing her disbelief, he repeated, “Felicity, I _do trust you_. I just… do you remember what I told you when we trapped in the bunker together?”

His wife nodded tearfully. “You don’t trust yourself.”

“Everybody keeps leaving,” he said. “Because of me. I’m poison. You… you’re _pure_. I don’t deserve you, and I never have. If you stay with me… you’re going to become tainted. And I can’t ever let that happen. When I hallucinated you in the bunker… I just thought you’d finally realized you could do better than me.”

Felicity was sobbing silently, crying too much to reply. He wanted nothing more than to embrace her, but he saw Millard give a small shake of her head out of the corner of his eye, so he simply grabbed her hands and allowed her to cry onto his shoulder. Swiping a box of tissues from the corner of her desk, the doctor passed it over to Felicity, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry,” his wife said. “This is so embarrassing.”

“It’s alright,” Millard responded. “That was an emotional conversation. Some would even say a breakthrough. Now you and Oliver are aware of his insecurities in your relationship, you can begin to tackle them more actively.” She turned back to the archer. “Oliver, you thought you were hallucinating Felicity in the precinct?”

“It didn’t make any sense for her to be there,” he sighed. “I never would have expected her to come after me in the middle of a battlefield like that. And... I was hallucinating Adrian while I was there, which didn’t make me very confident in discerning what was real and what wasn’t.”

“What made you realise that I _was_ real?” Felicity asked, frowning at him curiously. “I know I was talking to you… telling you that I was there and with you, but if your hallucination of me also talked to you, how did you know?”

He exhaled, rubbing his fingers against his thumbs anxiously. “You… you put your hand over my heart. When I put my hand on top of yours… I was checking if I could feel your wedding ring. You weren’t wearing it in the hallucination. The fact that you had it on…” She smiled at her fondly. “That’s when I realized you were real.”

Felicity stared at him, her wet eyes shining. “Oh my god, I think I’m going to start crying again.”

“Keep the tissue box,” the doctor advised her. “Felicity, I’d like to ask you some questions, if that’s okay. What did you think about Oliver’s lone wolf attack on the precinct? How did you react when you found out what was going on? What do you think about it now?”

“I was worried,” she said, her voice small. “ _Really_ worried. Probably the most worried I’ve ever been about him. Only a day before Oliver attacked the precinct, I told him it would be a suicide mission to go alone. We both acknowledged that if he tried to take down Diaz by himself, he would most likely get killed. When I found out what he was doing and called Quentin, who told me that Oliver thought I’d kicked him out… I was devastated.”

“Do you think that Oliver was trying to die, going after Diaz by himself?”

Felicity looked away from the archer, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t know, and that’s what terrifies me.”

Millard mulled this over, writing more notes. “Oliver, when you attacked the precinct, you knew that there was a high likelihood of you getting hurt or killed. I need to ask, have you ever had thoughts of the self-destructive kind before? Thoughts about starving yourself, depriving yourself of water or sleep, placing yourself in deliberate danger, actively trying to antagonize enemies or just directly hurting or killing yourself all count.”

The archer fixed his gaze on the floor, staring intensely. “I’m not going to lie,” he rasped.

“And what would be lying?”

“Saying no.”

“Okay.” The doctor handed him a piece of paper stuck to a clipboard and a pen. “Our session has very nearly ended, but before we close it, I’d like you to fill this form out, if you can. You don’t have to let your wife see if you don’t want her to. Don’t overthink the questions, just go with what feels natural. I’ve already filled out some of the questions about past experiences with psychiatric aid.”

Oliver took the form cautiously, propping it on his lap and he read the questions. As soon as he saw what they were about, he shifted ever so slightly so Felicity couldn’t see them. That nauseous feeling crept up on him again and his hands began shaking as he took the pen and started an attempt at answering the questions.

1\. _Have you ever heard voices no one else could hear or seen objects or things which others could not see?_ Yes/ ~~No~~

2\. _Have you ever been depressed for weeks at a time, lost interest or pleasure in most activities, had trouble concentrating and making decisions, or thought about killing yourself?_ Yes/ ~~No~~

3\. _Have you ever had nightmares or flashbacks as a result of being involved in some traumatic/terrible event? For example, warfare, gang fights, fire, domestic violence, rape, incest, car accident, being shot or stabbed?_ Yes/ ~~No~~

4\. _Have you ever experienced any strong fears? For example, of heights, insects, animals, dirt, attending social events, being in a crowd, being alone, being in places where it may be hard to escape or get help?_ Yes/ ~~No~~

5\. _Have you ever given in to an aggressive urge or impulse, on more than one occasion, that resulted in serious harm to others or led to the destruction of property?_ Yes/ ~~No~~

6\. _Have you ever felt that people had something against you, without them necessarily saying so, or that someone or some group may be trying to influence your thoughts or behavior?_ Yes/ ~~No~~

7\. _Have you ever had spells or attacks when you suddenly felt anxious, frightened, or uneasy to the extent that you began sweating, your heart began to beat rapidly, you were shaking or trembling, your stomach was upset, or you felt dizzy or unsteady, as if you would faint?_ Yes/ ~~No~~

He paused after he’d completed the sheet, peering down at his answers as if they held the secrets of the universe. He’d picked yes for every single question. And what made him even more agitated was the fact that he’d been truthful. Millard reached across to take the form from him before he could change anything, running her gaze down it. She nodded, taking the piece of paper and turning it over on her desk so neither Oliver nor Felicity could see it.

“The next time I see you both, I’d like to see you separately,” she told them, pulling out another notepad of some kind from her white coat’s pocket. “Felicity for the first half an hour of the session, and Oliver for the last. I know we haven’t completely gone over what happened last week, but I think it’s a good start. I can tell that both of you very much want this therapy to work out, which is a good thing. Keep communicating with each other as much as possible."

Felicity bobbed her head in a nod. "We will."

"Now… Oliver, before you walk out, I’m going to get you a copy of your ARGUS file. I’m also going to give you an official doctor’s diagnosis letter that I want you to file with your personal doctor. That’s Dr. Schwartz at Star City General Hospital, right? Okay. You can read that yourself, and you can share with Felicity if you want to. The reason you need to have that filed is because I’m going to suggest a medication prescription, but Dr. Schwartz needs to sign it off.”

“Can you tell us now?” Oliver asked suddenly.

Milliard looked surprised. “Now, now? Are you sure?”

“I’d rather not have to wait.” And this way, he wouldn’t actually have to be the person to tell Felicity. He was worried about having to deal with both of their reactions to the news without somebody who could calm them both down if necessary present.

“Felicity?” the doctor checked.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Alright. Oliver, I’m diagnosing you with acute PTSD, moderate generalized depression and moderate generalized anxiety. There’s also sufficient evidence to say that you have minor paranoia and social anxiety disorder. I’m advising a prescription of Zoloft to be taken daily, which will, unfortunately, most likely need to be built up to a higher dose. I’m advising the meds to be paired with CBT, although the waiting list for that is very long, so it’s unlikely you’ll be seen this year if you decide to go for that.”

Oliver was speechless. He didn’t want to admit he was shocked, but he was. He should have felt angry, or upset or in denial but… he just felt relieved. Utterly relieved that he finally knew what was going on with himself. Felicity seemed to be the same way. She was looking across at him with a small smile on her face. His mental health issues had finally be diagnosed and labeled… and with those issues no longer hiding in the shadows, they didn’t have to live in ignorance of what precisely was affecting him anymore. He might finally be able to work on getting better.

“Thank you,” he said. Then he shook himself. “Not - not thank you for the diagnoses, I mean, you know, thank you for -”

“It’s okay,” Millard said. “I understand. You don’t have to thank me. This is my job. Allowing me to help you is all the thanks I need. Right, I’m going to give you both homework.”

“Homework?” Felicity repeated, incredulous.

“Yes, homework. Also, home rules. And you’re not going to like them.”

“I’ve never been very good at homework,” Oliver wrinkled his nose.

“Well, you better get pretty good at this, because I’m going to give you homework after every session we have and if you don’t complete it, I’ll tell on you to Director Michaels.”

There weren’t many people that could intimidate Oliver. Felicity was one of them. Lyla was most definitely another. “Right. Note taken.”

“Your homework this week is to write me lists, about what you like about yourselves. I know this is going to be hard for both of you, but I’d like you to try and fill at least half a page of lined paper. We’ll go over those in your private sessions.

Hard? That sounded near impossible to Oliver. There wasn’t really anything he liked about himself anymore - except his connection to William, and relationship with Felicity, and he reckoned Millard wouldn’t be very happy if he wrote those down.

“I’d also like both of you to work together to write me a sequence of events of major things that have happened in both of your lives since you got married and moved in together in December. Try and include personal notes and any feelings you can remember you had at the time as well. We’re going to talk through that timeline when we all get together in a session again. Hopefully, we’ll be able to work out where all the pressures from all sides of your lives began building from.”

“That sounds alright,” Felicity said, although she did sound a little dubious. “Do you want us to include when all the other team members left?”

“If you can, that would be great. We’re definitely going to discuss those events more in the future. We're also going to discuss your lives since you met each other, so if you have any journals or diaries from the last six years, I'd like you to bring them with you next time."

"Are you going to read them?" Oliver asked suspiciously. He had his journal from two years ago, the one he'd began writing when he and Felicity had gone on their six-month world-traveling trip... and finished shortly after the engagement had been called off. That had been a very dark period of his life and he didn't want anybody psychoanalyzing his writings from back then.

"No, I'll actually want you two to read them. But that's the future. For now... your home rules for this week are firstly, no sex until our next session together.” Whatever reactions Millard saw from them caused her to laugh gently. Oliver knew he probably appeared annoyed. “It’s not the end of the world, guys, why the long faces? You’re allowed to be intimate with each other in the form of kissing and cuddling, but I’d like you to refrain from having sex. Your emotional bond has been strained by what happened last week, and there’s always a danger that you’ll become too dependent on your physical bond, which is strengthened by the two of you making love, rather than focusing on mending the emotional one.”

“Oliver,” Felicity turned to him. “I regret saying therapy was a good idea.”

He chuckled lightly. “We’ll manage, Felicity.”

“Secondly, I’d like you to make sure you spend time with William separately, but also together. He’s been affected by all of this as well, and I think you’re going to need to emphasize to him over the next month or so that you three are always going to remain a family, no matter what. If you can, I’d like to you have a talk with him about mental health.”

“I have,” Felicity said quickly.

Oliver blinked, confused. “Wait, you have?”

“I’ve had a discussion with William about PTSD before,” she admitted, somewhat sheepish. “Both Oliver and I suffer from nightmares and William occasionally does as well. He needed to understand that waking one of us up could be dangerous. And… I noticed a couple years ago that there are times where Oliver retreats into his own head and goes silent for several minutes at a time… either in deep thought or having flashbacks. William must have noticed too; he mentioned it to me and he was worried, so I tried to explain.”

“That’s excellent, Felicity,” Milliard told her, looking very pleased. “I think that’s enough home rules for this week. Are you free every week at this time? I can book you in for regular one-hour sessions.”

“We’re free,” Oliver nodded.

“Alright.” Millard rose to her feet, brushing down her coat. “Let me just grab that paperwork you need, Oliver, and I’ll show you out.”

They waited where they’d sat before the session had started for the doctor to head out somewhere and then return. The archer couldn’t believe he’d just had his first ever therapy session and it had actually gone relatively well. He felt as if there was less weight dragging down his shoulders, as if his heart was a little less cold and rigid. Letting loose on those emotions and thoughts he’d been containing, being able to confess so many things to Felicity, really made him feel as if he’d achieved something great.

“Your file and your letter.” Millard pressed them into his hands as soon as she returned. “I’ll see you both next week, then.”

“Yes,” Felicity agreed, nodding. “Thank you.”

Millard gave them a wave of goodbye before vanishing back into her office.

“She was nice,” his wife commented.

Oliver scratched the back of his neck, exhaling. “Yeah, she was.”

“I know you’re disappointed.”

“What?”

“I could tell you really wanted to hate therapy, but -”

“Yeah, I actually kind of… liked it.” He entwined their fingers. “I feel weird.”

“Same. It’s sort of like there was this wall surrounding me before but now it’s been knocked down and I’m getting the first breath of fresh air I’ve had in a while.”

That was the perfect way to describe it.

“We should go home,” he said. “And maybe… talk some more? And we can read through my ARGUS file together.”

“Are you sure? I know there are things that happened in Hong Kong that you maybe don’t want me to know the details of.”

“I trust you,” he told her seriously. “And you deserve to know the details. Plus… if there’s anything we don’t like in there, you can just hack into ARGUS and delete them.”

His wife beamed at him, laughing. “Perks of having a super hacker wife, I guess. We should grab ice-cream from the store on the way back.”

They’d began their walk to the ARGUS car park where they’d stashed Oliver’s Ducati hand in hand when Oliver’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

_From: Lyla Michaels -: I’d gladly accept one of those bottles of sparkling rosé that Felicity likes as a thank you gift. :)_

He laughed and showed Felicity the text.

“Tell her I have two bottles she can have as a birthday present next month.”

_To: Lyla Michaels -: You can have two for your birthday next month. Honestly, thank you so much. Dr. Millard really helped us out._

_From: Lyla Michaels -: I’m glad xxxx (Will also accept payment in the form of you babysitting JJ for me)_

“We owe her,” Oliver said. “We owe her a lot.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Home?”

“Home.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos or comment if you enjoyed :)
> 
> Twitter: @lexiblackbriar  
> Tumblr: @alexiablackbriar


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